Build up the fire.
Build up the one, true love.
I stoke the aces and stake a show of Deadman's bluff.
Snuff out the aegis.
Raze out the aeon flux.
And of that fire
and by the ages I sought from you
in true blue.
Must I alone of oceans born and make
and, wanton moon again be by sleep to wake.
The workmen tires anew
his ship saddened along the route.
Yet at journey's end a journey has no fools.
What once was tender scene is now jubilee.
And your sanctuary becomes, becomes, becomes jubilee.
God sense soul.
They blossom under a dream.
An orchard's child.
Flower round you'll catch conceit.
Not now nor will thee unmask by spectral means.
I've known of Earth's sky.
A robin's tears draw mist from mud
to slumber untouched.
Prodigal and lame,
Serene, yet grace born.
Temperate, yet dead in laurels.
From sphere and dome I yield escape.
If there's no excuse that I could ever will to suit
then, how do they satisfy a vengeance I've failed to roost?
What once was tender scene is now jubilee.
And your sanctuary becomes, becomes, becomes, becomes jubilee.
Lark in thy view.
Glow worms spin sails for thy breath.
Our faeries fairest ship sends a most oft regret.
The virgin ground pounds proud hearts to transience.
As sadness is one
A faeries strength is in the murk
yet tending by firsts.
Just who abides the melancholic kiss.
When your upward sob's a comet called autumn from May.
Beneath pleasure and arms astronomers trade for stars.
But I never knew that you were one of ours.
What once was tender scene is now jubilee.
And your sanctuary becomes, becomes jubilee.